


Splicing White

by vivianne_leigh



Category: BioShock, BioShock 2
Genre: Internal Conflict, Memories, Period-Typical Racism, Racism, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivianne_leigh/pseuds/vivianne_leigh
Summary: After a particularly ugly suggestion from a fellow citizen, Charles takes stock of who he is, and if he wants that to change.





	Splicing White

Before he had arrived in Rapture, Charles had never noticed his hands.

 

They were the same as they had been since childhood; though age had added extra scars and scrapes, Charles knew them by memory.

 

Now, standing in the low light of what passed for nighttime in Rapture, Charles felt the first twinge of discontent at their appearance.

 

He hadn’t even thought about changing anything about himself since he’d arrived in the city, But with the unpleasant conversation he’d had earlier in the day, a nagging thought had lodged in his mind.

 

What if the man was right?

 

Weighted with grief as he was, Charles wasn’t stupid- he’d heard the whispers of his fairer coworkers, seen the way white women had shied away, their husbands arms tightening around their waists in self-righteous anger. It stung: he’d built the brain of the city, was the reason those arrogant bastards didn’t suffocate in their own homes from carbon dioxide poisoning and still he was wrong in their eyes- ugly, strange, untrustworthy. It made his blood boil, hidden under a thin veneer of professionalism. Sometimes even at work, discussing technicalities with the other staff, he could see the superiority hiding in their eyes, barbed and vicious. Decades of nooses and night rides hiding in the smug turn of their lips, and on the worst days Charles found it hard to even speak to them without raising a hand.

 

Pulling out of the memory, he turned towards the Gatherer’s Garden spilling neon pink across the floor- while it didn’t normally offer racial augmentations, he could easily request a custom plasmid with his connections. But... would he? _Should_ he? Idly drumming his fingers on the frosted glass of the display window, he turned over the concept. He knew it would be a surrender to do so, a moral standing down: but, even as he argued this to himself, he was keenly aware of how different things would be. He’d had these arguments before with himself at various points in his life and he had always known the answer- that he shouldn’t need to rewrite himself for some white folks’ convenience, that it wasn’t his job to make them feel at ease with him- but the idea that he _could_ , that it was no longer a fairy tale, gave him pause. If he could just...

 

No.

 

Yanking his hand off the vending machine, he turned on his heel and started for the door to the bathysphere, annoyed at his lapse in judgement. As his dress shoes beat a fast rhythm on the carpeted floor, he flashed back to a memory from years ago.

* * *

 

Pearl had been perched in his lap, warm arms crossed behind his neck. Sighing with contentment, she’d rested her head on his shoulder, shifting slightly when his arms looped around her waist. In her embrace he could feel the stress leaving his shoulders, and he sighed with relief. “What’s the matter, baby?” Pulling away slightly, she frowned at him, concerned. Even worried, she was beautiful.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Offering her a tired smile, he freed an arm to stroke a thumb over her cheek, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin. Smiling softly, she scoffed. “You seem awfully tense over ‘nothing’, Charles.”

 

When he didn’t explain further she let it drop, leaning back into his embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. “I love looking at you like this,” she whispered, hand tracing whorls into the fabric of his suit. “You’re so handsome.” If it had been anyone else, he would have waved them off- but here, with the fireplace warming the room and Pearl’s heartbeat beside his, he couldn't find it in him to stop her. “I love your skin,” she hummed against his neck, eyes drifting shut. She was like a cat, warmly curling against him, her weight comforting with its realness. “It’s like... fresh earth, warmed by the sun. I’ve thought of it since I first saw you. You know that, right?”

 

He hadn’t expected her to say anything like that, and he almost wanted to argue with her -to prove she was the beauty of the two- but when he looked down and saw their colors together her Peruvian brown against his warm umber- he found himself at a loss for words, in the best way possible.

* * *

 

If Pearl loved him as is, then that was more than enough. With that memory in the forefront of his in mind, Charles let the doors slam shut and didn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> The unnamed man referenced in this piece is the 'business type' mentioned in this in-game audio diary:  
> http://bioshock.wikia.com/wiki/How_to_Get_Ahead


End file.
